Orlok and The Schemes
A Word From Our Sponsors Orlok’s grinning face appeared on the T.V Screen, holding up a can of cool-drink labelled as “Boost-Juice” “HI KIDS!!! TIS I!!! ORLOK!!! Champion arena fighter that totes defs didn’t lose the only fight I ever fought!!! Lookit, before a fight I like to chug Boost-Juice. I JUST SLAM THAT SHIT INTO MY FACE LIKE A WEAPON!!!” Orlok chuckled and turned to several tied up people in the corner. “Our science team has been hard at work doubling the amount of gasoline and tripling the amount of sugar in our wonderfully healthy chug-jug of a drink. It now contains twelve percent more concentrated monkey testosterone. Just ask this hardworking sap how it changed his life!” Orlok turned over to a man who had apparently exploded, holding a drink in his hand but dying with a smile. “SEE?! You just can’t beat customer satisfaction like that! Even exploded he still liked the boost-juice.” “I’ll see you kids later, remember to stay frosty! AND ALWAYS check your underpants… for snakes…” We Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming When we last left our intrepid Orlok he'd had his ass handed to him by a large wolf-man in the sex arena of the dreaded ROWAN KREEGER!!! However will our intrepid heroically Heroic Hero save his own ass from the wrath of the supervillainess known to the people of Little Oracle as Madame Motherfucker and her army of mutnt gimps, not to mention the- "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" Someone threw a boot at Orlok's head and he fell to the ground clutching his bag of chemicals and fungus killer. "Oww! You MOTHERFUCKER!! I'll pleasure myself on your corp- oh wait, I actually need one of these. Thank you ctizen!" Orlok waved at the angry hobo that had taken exception to his narrating. Orlok chuckled and hummed slightly to himself, having a hard time finding his way around without his sunglasses and radar Pompadour. Still, Orlok, UnMasked Avenger would FIND A WAY. He was still in Little Oracle, on the outer edges of Rowan's turf. Any further out and he'd hit save systems and then wastelands territory. As much as he liked the idea of just bumming in a cave till Rowan forgot about him, HE WAS A MAN. HE WAS NOT GOING TO RUN AWAY FROM SOME RAPEY BITCH... for longer than a year at the most anyway. The door to the old sewage plant was still locked but hardly sturdy. He grunted and kicked the rusted from down. He winced as he felt a stitch tear out but there wasn't too much blood. Ugh, he'd have to use his own clothes as bandages. Too bad a sewage plant wasn't exactly the cleanest environment to be performing surgery on himself. OR so most people thought! Orlok tried a few old light switches on the way inside and got nothing. The power had been cut a while ago. He'd have to rig up a generator deeper inside if he wanted any light to work with. Still, this was on the very fucking edge of Rowan's reach and he'd not be found if he just kept quiet and didn't attract any suspicion. the corridors were dirty and rusted in most places but as he went down the stairs to the sublevels he found parts of the building that hadn't been looted. One one wall he noted a plastic contained marked as disinfectant. Industrial grade stuff the workers would use to clean their overalls if there was a spill. He grabbed it off the wall and tested to make sure it still worked. It did, even if the spray was a little off by now. The main foreman's office was a bit of a mess, a broken door and bloodstains giving off some idea of what had happened to wreck the plant up. It looked like someone hadn't been paying protection money and Rowan had ordered her goons to go in and kickfaces in. There was a corpse in the corner but it was skeletal, so this must have happened a while ago. Long enough for Rowan not to give a shit about the plant anymore if it was in such as state of disrepair. He cleared the busted terminal and stationary from the desk and put his supplies down in the corner. There was one of those cosmetic mirrors in the bathroom and some old makeup, overseer had been female. Or just gay.' He didn't judge. Orlok grabbed some pens and tore the ink containers out of the, tying them together a few times and then around the pen he'd stolen from the barkeep. He'd grabbed some disinfected shrapnel from rowan's place and placed one of the sharped bits on the end. "Ugh, Macguyver 101. Use the thing that almost killed you to save your life." Orlok sighed. Cleaning up the stitches he'd torn out was a long and irritating process, as was changing all his dirty bandages and substituting pieces from his pants. He stole some fiber from the overseer's corpse and used that as more surgical threat to reseal his wounds. He pulled out the vodka and the hand sanitize and looked between the two, eventually deciding to use a small quantity of both sparingly. He had to lay on his side and try not to let the disinfectant run down but at least he wasn't going to die of an infection any time soon. "Okay, that's enough of that." Orlok grabbed a sink, put the plug in and poured all the vodka he still had into it. Then he dumped his jeans and coat into the sink and let them soak. Now in his underwear, he grabbed the skull off the corpse and polished it off with his thumb, getting all the grit and dirt off of it. He placed it carefully on the desk, like a sort of trophy. He was king of this place now, muahwhawh. "Okay, Shelly, where'd you keep your good stuff?" He read the nametage off the corpse and loaded the terminal up, placing it back on the desk. Funny how you could use the residual bone marrow from a corpse to fool DNA scanners, huh? "Hmm, let's see what secrets Shelly had before she got Rowan'd, shall we?" Orlok chuckled as he trawled through data, looking for the facility's main power grid.